


the right side of rock bottom

by shineyma



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Established Relationship, F/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineyma/pseuds/shineyma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant's HYDRA has an unexpected guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Over on tumblr, ilosttrackofthings prompted "A kiss on the nose + biospecialist" which, happily, finally gave me the motivation to write an idea I've had for AGES. This isn't a multichapter, but it has the potential to become a drabble series--hence the multiple chapters.
> 
> I'm way behind on comment replies, I'm so sorry. I'll try to get those taken care of today.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please be gentle if you review!

“And she’s clean?”

“No weapons, no trackers, no wires,” Ortilla confirms, easily keeping up with Grant’s admittedly hurried stride. “She had one bag with her, but she gave it up without a fight—it was clean, too.”

“Huh,” he says. It’s not like he was _expecting_ an assassination attempt from his own wife (current state of their marriage aside), but he’s gotta admit, if she’s not here to kill him, he’s lost. Jemma’s made it firmly and repeatedly clear that she doesn’t want a damn thing to do with him…and while he’s absolutely got a plan to deal with that, he hasn’t even begun implementing it. “Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah,” Ortilla says. “She don’t look good.”

Against his will, Grant slows. “How so?”

“Malnourished, pale…and a little jumpy.” Ortilla grimaces. “The guys thought it was just them, but she didn’t relax any when they backed off and left her to Aldridge.”

Grant doesn’t like the sound of that _at all_ , and picks the pace back up for the last 300 feet to his office. (If the little side room they’ve converted for his use can really be called such.) As promised, Jemma’s waiting for him—and also as promised, she doesn’t look good.

She’s curled into the corner of the couch, knees hugged to her chest and shoulders hunched. The ill-fitting clothes she’s wearing—a large hoodie layered over a baggy sweater—are probably adding to the overall effect, but her thin, gaunt face makes it clear it’s not just his imagination she’s gotten smaller.

And as soon as he finds out who put that lost look on her face, he’s gonna be killing them with _extreme_ prejudice.

For the moment, though…

“Well,” he says, and smiles as Jemma’s head snaps up, “this is a pleasant sur—”

 _Surprise_ is one word for it; before he even finishes his sentence, Jemma’s up and off the couch and throwing herself at him. She clings hard enough to bruise, and when he—once he recovers from the shock—hugs her close, she gives a little dry sob.

Aldridge is hanging back in the corner. Grant looks at her over Jemma’s head, hoping for a clue, and all she does is shrug.

“Haven’t gotten a word out of her,” she says with a little frown.

“Okay.” Jemma is trembling in his arms and added to the changes he can feel in her body—the sharp angles where soft curves used to be—it’s a struggle to keep his voice even. But he doesn’t wanna scare her, so he makes the effort. “Why don’t you give us some privacy.”

“Yes, sir.”

Grant ignores Aldridge as she slips past him—and only acknowledges Ortilla to indicate he should follow her. Honestly, even that’s too long to have his attention away from his clearly traumatized wife.

“Jemma?” he asks. She burrows closer to him. “Baby, what happened?”

When all it gets him is a shake of her head against his chest, he rubs her back gently.

“Come on, Jem,” he wheedles. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the change of heart, but if you don’t tell me who hurt you, I can’t kill them.”

Her death grip on him eases a little, which seems like an encouraging sign. “My heart hasn’t changed. HYDRA is awful and I don’t approve of your choices at all.”

That _would_ be discouraging, except she’s still in his arms and, more importantly, she’s _talking_.

“But…?” he prompts.

She’s silent for a long minute, and he doesn’t dare push her. Instead, he rests his chin against her head and lets himself enjoy holding her close again after so long. She doesn’t fit into him the way she used to—the way she _should_ —but she’s still his wife and it’s been _years_.

As he holds her, she shifts a little. Not to move away—she stays as close as ever—but she slides her cheek along his chest a little, adjusting the angle she’s hugging him from. It takes her a few seconds to seem satisfied—she keeps fidgeting, making tiny adjustments—and only when she stills does he realize she’s settled her ear over his heart.

He’s not sure why, but it worries him.

“It wasn’t a person who hurt me,” she says finally. “There was…a monolith. An alien artifact.”

Uh oh.

“It was a portal,” she continues, arms tightening around him. He tightens his in return as her voice wavers. “It took me to another planet and—and left me there. Alone.”

Several conflicting emotions wage a war in his chest, but he’s careful to ensure that only his worry makes it into his tone. “You mean there was no one else from SHIELD there?”

“No.” She swallows loudly. “There was no one else at all. In six and a half months, I never saw another soul.” Her grip on his jacket spasms. “Or the sun.”

Fuck.

“Oh, baby.” He kisses the top of her hair and hugs her even tighter, trying not to imagine what that must have been like. No wonder she’s so thin; no people means no grocery stores, no restaurants…not even anyone to steal from. She would’ve been forced to forage, and he knows she doesn’t have any kind of survival training. “I’m so sorry.”

And no _sun_. Those five years he spent in Wyoming were fucking horrible, but he had sunshine and Buddy and vacationers to rob.

“I missed you,” she says, rubbing her cheek against his shirt. “I shouldn’t have, but I did, and I—” She drags in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of being frightened and miserable. So…”

Finally, finally, she looks up at him, and even sunken in her thinner face, her eyes are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It’s been years since she aimed anything but hate at him.

“I don’t approve of HYDRA,” she says, “but I can’t—I can’t care about it anymore. So can I just…stay here? With you?”

In all of his scheming and planning, not once did he imagine this: Jemma just walking into his base and asking to stay. He can’t be _completely_ happy about it—not when she’s in this state, thin and fragile and broken—but…he can’t say he’s _unhappy_ , either.

“Of _course_ you can.” He gives her a quick squeeze. “You’re always welcome wherever I am. You know that.”

Her expression lightens with relief…but she doesn’t smile. And he needs, suddenly and desperately, to see her smile. She was _alone_ on a _sunless alien planet_ for half a fucking year and he never even knew it. He thought SHIELD was just keeping her locked away, out of his reach, and while he hated it, he thought it was okay. He thought he could trust them at least to protect her.

But they didn’t. They let her get abducted by an alien artifact and _she could have died_. She could have starved to death—from the looks of her, she nearly did—or gotten injured and infected or—

There are too many ways he could’ve lost her, and he had no fucking clue.

So, yeah, he needs her to smile.

“We’re working on finding a better base,” he tells her, “but for now, this warehouse is it. You want a tour? Or a nap?” He runs his knuckles down the side of her face, fighting back a frown at the hollow to her cheeks. “Maybe a snack?”

Her mouth turns up at one corner—technically a smile, but it’s not enough. “A nap would be nice.”

“Nap it is,” he agrees and, on a whim, bends to kiss the tip of her nose. It always used to make her giggle, and while it doesn’t now…there!

She scrunches her nose at him and smiles, and something in his chest unlocks.

“What?” she asks. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” he says and kisses her forehead. “I’m just glad you’re here. C’mon, I’ll show you to my room.”

Her smile was a gift, but her easy nod—like it’s just a given that she’s gonna be sleeping in his room (as well it should be)—is a major victory.

He’s definitely gonna kill SHIELD for letting his wife get stranded on an alien planet…but he might have to thank them first.


	2. Chapter 2

It turns out that Jemma’s not as interested in sleeping as she is curling up in bed with him and having him play with her hair. Which, don’t get him wrong, he is _absolutely_ happy to do…but still. It’s worrying. The way she looks, it probably wouldn’t even take a stiff wind to knock her down; she needs rest (and food…and probably a dozen other things, too).

“Aren’t you tired, Jem?” he asks, kneading at the back of her neck. It’s gotta be aching with the way she’s twisted it to lay her ear over his heart again.

“No,” she says. Her fingers twist in the hem of his shirt. “Why? Do you—do you need to leave? If there’s something more important you need to be doing—”

He cuts her off with a laugh. Not that he means to, it just slips out.

“Nothing’s more important than you,” he promises. “All we’re doing these days is recruiting, anyway. I’m just worried that you—what?”

Suddenly, she’s tense as a live wire on top of him. He lets go of her neck and loosens the arm around her waist, afraid even the passing mention of his work was too much for her, but it only makes her tense further.

“What is it?” he asks. Her grip on his shirt tightens. “Jemma?”

He tries to angle to get a look at her expression, but she turns her head to hide her face in his shirt. The hand that isn’t busy twisting the hem till it strains at the seams clenches in the fabric next to her cheek.

Then she drags in a breath that shakes her whole body.

“May and Hunter,” she says, finally, voice muffled. “They’re…trying to find you. For revenge.”

She takes in another breath like she’s gonna continue, but doesn’t. She’s back to trembling the way she was when she showed up; Grant rubs her back and shushes her even as his mind races.

He’s not an idiot, so he always knew SHIELD would be coming after him, and he’s taken plenty of precautions. Jemma’s a special case—no one else gets to walk into this base until they’ve been tested, vetted, and personally approved by Kebo.

That said, that May’s on it makes him wary. And as overjoyed as he is to have Jemma here, her presence means they’ll be gunning for him twice as hard. It wouldn’t hurt to put a few more layers of security in place.

But calling Kebo can wait. For now, there’s Jemma.

He needs to tread carefully here. He can’t promise not to kill May and Hunter—not when there’s a good chance he’ll have to…and, more importantly, not when he really, really wants to—but it doesn’t take years of loving her to know Jemma’ll blame herself if they die hunting him. It obviously took a lot out of her just to warn him, and she’s not in a great place to begin with. Killing May and Hunter might just push her over the edge into breaking completely.

She’s still shaking.

“Hey,” he says, and tugs at her hair—just a little—until she peeks up at him. The lost look on her face makes his gut clench. “I can’t promise not to kill them, baby—May especially. If she’s that set on crossing me off…killing her might be the only way to stop her.”

Jemma nods miserably. “I know.”

“ _But_ ,” he continues, stroking her hair out of her face, “I can promise to do my best to avoid it—to avoid _them_. They can’t try to kill me if they can’t find me, right?”

“Right.” She gives him a tiny little smile. “But…”

“If they find me, I’ll do whatever I can to make them back off without killing them,” he promises. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, smile widening to something a little less miserable. Apparently satisfied, she makes herself comfortable again, setting her ear back over his heart. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says…and because it _is_ her, he’ll stick to his word.

He comes to that bridge way sooner than he’s expecting, though; once Jemma finally dozes off, he takes the time to fire a quick text to Kebo, ordering him to send him a picture of anyone he plans to bring here before he does it. It’s only meant as a stopgap measure, a hasty and insufficient extra level of security to give him some peace of mind until he can work with Markham on strengthening every protocol they’ve got, but it turns out to be a good call.

Twenty minutes after he texts Kebo, he gets a picture of Hunter in return.

“Goddamnit,” he mutters, and then bites his tongue as Jemma shifts in place. She settles down after he strokes her hair a few times, though, and he’s free to consider his next step.

For Kebo to have him that close at hand, Hunter must be the recruit he’s been talking about bringing in—the one who so kindly provided them a shit ton of guns earlier this week. That means SHIELD’s basically found Grant; they might not know the way to the warehouse, but Hunter’s weaseled his way into Grant’s operation—and Jemma mentioned May in conjunction with him, so she’ll be close behind.

Fuck.

He’s tempted to tell Kebo to cross Hunter off right then and there, but something stops him. Technically there’s nothing holding him back—he said _he’d_ do his best not to kill Hunter and May, he didn’t say anything about his men doing it—but he knows perfectly well that breaking the spirit of his promise would hurt Jemma just as badly as breaking the word.

Her weight is warm—if far too slight—against him, her breath feathering over his neck in even sighs, and the hand that _was_ tangled in the hem of his shirt has crept beneath it to warm freezing fingers against his skin. It’s the first time in years he’s had her this close; the last time he saw her, she’d have sooner shot him than trusted him enough to sleep on him like this.

He just got her back. He’s in no hurry to lose her on Lance fucking Hunter’s account.

“The sacrifices I make for you,” he mutters, looping some of her hair around his fingers as he thinks. Even _it_ feels thinner—fragile, just like the rest of her.

That she was desperate enough to come to him in the first place, despite her hatred of HYDRA, means he might not lose her if he has Kebo kill Hunter. But he’d certainly _break_ her, and he wants that even less.

“Okay,” he says, and reaches for his phone again.

Doing things this way won’t be as satisfying as witnessing it in person—he was _really_ looking forward to seeing May’s face—but he’d rather have Jemma and the long-distance revenge than a front-row seat and no Jemma at all.

So he tells Kebo to inform Hunter that what’s about to happen is a warning and that he’ll get worse if he doesn’t back off, then orders the von Strucker kid to kill Garner.

It’s maybe not as fun as personally sticking a knife in the man’s heart right in front of May, but it’s not nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO EXCITED for the next chapter....which probably means it'll take me a million years to write. Sigh. But stay tuned, is my point, because we're gonna go a ways off the canon rails.


End file.
